How to Raise the Perfect ManEating Flower
by Silver Souhait
Summary: Allen really couldn't fathom exactly what Cross would want with a carnivorous flower. Unfortunately, he can't exactly object when his master orders him to take care of it. Now, how is he supposed to get pass those vines and teeth so he can water it...?


Why is writing always so much easier when you have other work you're supposed to be doing?...It's not a good thing.

Anyways, I was recently re-watching Krory's introductory arc, and when Allen was telling Lavi how to tame the flowers, I wondered exactly how Allen knew that. Somehow, I doubt that Cross was forthcoming with that sort of information. So I ended up writing this to answer myself.

Disclaimer: I don't own D. Gray-Man; I only write fanfiction, when I should be doing homework or other important things.

* * *

When Cross came in carrying a pot containing a huge, spotted pink flower bud, Allen only spared it a glance before bringing wine and a glass over to the table by Cross's armchair. The man came in with strange things in his arms all the time, after all; that woman last week, who wore just as much makeup as a clown and was dressed more flamboyantly than any that he had ever seen, was a prime example. Master certainly had the weirdest tastes on the rare occasions that he actually surpassed his tolerance level. Still, a plant was pretty unusual.

Allen didn't know whether or not to be surprised when Cross unceremoniously dumped the pot into his arms, saying, "This is Rosanne. It's your job to take care of her from now on."

He stared at the flower. It didn't even occur to him to question his master or his master's sanity, by now. Well, taking care of it couldn't be too hard, right? It just needed water and sunlight. He smiled tentatively. This might be one of the easiest chores Cross had ever given him.

"Allen." Cross had already poured out the wine and was sitting back in the armchair, Timcanpy perched on his hat like always. "If anything happens to Rosanne, I'll do it back to you a hundred times worse."

"All right," replied Allen, grinning. The threat didn't faze him. How hard could it be to protect the plant from danger?

Suddenly Rosanne uncurled its petals and began gnawing on his head. With razor-sharp teeth.

Ah. That was what Cross meant…if _he_ did anything to Rosanne. Right now, though, Allen felt much more like pounding his master – or just weeping from the sheer misery of his situation.

xXx

Allen stared warily at the plant sitting innocently by the window. He stood behind the door on the other side of the room, ready to run if the plant showed any sign of movement before he was ready.

In the week since he'd been given care of Rosanne, he'd had the pleasure of discovering that not only did it have a taste for human flesh, it had vines that wanted nothing more than to crush his bones into flour. Every time that he'd gone to water it – and it required water every day, according to Cross – it had snapped at him while wrapping vines around any body part it could and squeezing. He had tried dodging its attacks, sneaking up to it, charging it, walking up slowly and quietly, jumping at it when it didn't seem to be "looking", and even getting Timcanpy to water it – which the golem wouldn't (not only that, but he seemed to enjoy watching Allen's futile efforts) – but each time, he ended up simply throwing the water at Rosanne in defeat and hoping that the stupid plant got enough in its soil.

If only his master would actually teach him to use his anti-Akuma weapon! It had been months now, and he still had no idea how to even transform it. The vines and teeth probably couldn't hurt his arm when it was in its gigantic form, and he'd be able to keep a safe distance from the plant. But no, all Cross did was exploit him, using him to run errands and pay off his debts and take care of carnivorous plants, so Allen would just have to find some other strategy to water Rosanne today.

Maybe he should try to fight back. He wouldn't risk his master's wrath by actually harming the plant, but he should be able to hit hard enough that the vines and flower would lay off him long enough for him to get all of the water into the pot.

Making sure that the water was secure in his left hand – it was still so stiff that he needed to use his right hand to curl his fingers all the way around the watering can's handle - he ran at Rosanne. The vines shot at him immediately.

He dodged the first two, darting to the side and ducking, and hit the third one, coming straight for his neck, with a fist. It fell to the floor, twitching a bit. Allen took a moment to smile – his plan might work!

He kicked two of the vines coming at him from the side. But another hit him from the other side, nearly knocking him over. A vine came toward him from the front. He evaded it and rammed it into the wall, only to be whacked in the back by another one. His chin hit the floor hard. Through watering eyes, he looked up; five more vines to go. Quickly, he rolled to the side to evade a particularly thick one that seemed intent on crushing him into the floor.

As he stood again, two vines attacked from either side. He grabbed both and slammed them together. The two of them seemed to wobble a bit before falling to the floor in a dead slump. Suddenly Allen was forced to the floor again as a vine wrapped itself around his ankle and pulled; but he kicked the wrapped foot down onto the vine. It released him and lay flat.

He got to his knees, panting. The vines were extremely firm; he probably couldn't do any permanent damage to them if he tried. Nevertheless, he had to hurry and water Rosanne before his master came back and saw him attacking the plant.

There were two more vines. He went for the skinnier vine first, grabbing it and stomping it to the floor, then faced the thickest vine of them all. He yelled and ran at it while the vine zoomed toward him, each out to do whatever it took to incapacitate the other. The vine pulled its front tip slightly to the side, intent on wrapping the boy its deadly embrace. Allen kept rushing straight ahead, seemingly unaware of the vine's intent. The vine would be the winner, without a doubt! Then Allen held the watering can in front of him, and the vine slammed into it, denting it before falling to the floor.

Allen couldn't help but whoop in triumph, laughing like a madman. Finally, all of the vines were unconscious! Ignoring the technicalities of that declaration, he started a last sprint toward the flower itself. If he could just knock it out with the watering can too, he'd finally be able to give Rosanne all of the water –

Then three of the vines, having recovered, knocked him into the wall with a loud thud.

_That...hurt,_ Allen thought blearily.

He lay on the floor, having lost the will to get up, to even escape the room. What was the point? Once that flower withered for lack of water, Cross was going to thrash him anyway. Besides, now his head was aching and his body was sore. Sleep would be heaven right about now, even in the midst of the soon-to-be active vines. Moving would just make the ringing in his head even louder.

He didn't notice his master walk into the room, only taking notice when Cross picked up the watering pail. He took it over to the plant, which bared its fangs and threateningly raised all of its vines.

Cross raised an eyebrow at it._ What could you possibly do to me?_

Rosanne cowered. Withdrawing the vines and closing into a bud, the flower sat complacently while Cross poured the water in.

The job done, he dropped the can in front of Allen and strode out of the room, muttering, "Idiot apprentice."

Allen dropped his head to the floor. Life wasn't fair.

xXx

Another few weeks had gone by. Timcanpy watched Allen as the boy, with dark, hardened eyes, shuffled into Rosanne's room in a resigned fashion, watering can in hand. This task, compounded over the weeks, had done nothing for his overall mood at all; today, however, was a particularly bad day. He had just been fired from his job of lugging stones for some national monument, over a fight that he hadn't started; Cross had lost about the amount the monument was worth, all in one day; and to top it off, once his master had found out he had come home without any money, he had refused to "buy" any dinner for him. Allen was exhausted and angry and _starving_, yet he still had to take care of this plant that seemed to hate him so much that it would rather die than allow him to get close. After standing in the doorway for a second, eyes squeezed shut as if he meant to reject this reality, he walked forward, and the vines charged at him.

He leaned his head to the side to avoid the first one, then caught the second one and threw it to the side. A third one tried to snake up at him from the floor, but he saw it and stomped on it, once, twice. He lifted his foot again, as if he wanted to rapidly stomp on it over and over again, but a grimace of pain passed over his features as he remembered what the consequences would be. Slowly, he lowered his foot away from the vine, snapping to attention again just as four more vines rushed forward. He blocked one, but another hooked around his ankle and landed his on his back, and the others began to wrap around his ribcage and contract.

Gasps started, and came harder and faster as the vines squeezed his chest more tightly. Panicking, he bashed the vines with his can and kicked blindly, hoping that he'd hit them hard enough to make them let go. His foot made contact with one just as the other, for some reason, spontaneously let him go; once he was free, he threw the entire can at the flower and ran from the room, giving up on Rosanne completely.

Once he was in the room, curled into a ball against the walls, sobs began to wrack his body uncontrollably. Damn plant. Damn master. What kind of master was he, anyway, to give his apprentice only debts instead of training? He didn't even deserve his title. Why was he supposed to take care of Rosanne, anyway? The stupid flower didn't even do anything, and he didn't see his master getting anything out of it but pleasure over his troubles! And now the flower was going to die from lack of water, because he couldn't get enough water into it and Cross apparently couldn't be bothered to do it on a daily basis. Allen wasn't exactly scared of what Cross might do him physically. He was more scared of the kind of debts he might take the opportunity to pile up, using the excuse that Allen owed him; owed him for killing his killer flower! What kind of master was he?

Timcanpy flew into the room. Flitting around a few times, he came to a rest on Allen's head, wrapping his tail around like a crown. Unfortunately, Allen was in no mood to be Timcanpy's perch at the moment. "Tim, get off," he growled. He felt the golem shake from side to side. "I mean it, Tim, get off of my head." He didn't budge.

Allen's temper boiled over. "Dammit, I said get OFF!" he yelled, grabbing the golem with both hands and throwing him.

Timcanpy managed not to hit the wall, but he was still upset over being thrown off. He bit Allen's arm, and upon hearing a satisfactory "Ow!" he flew out of the room to find somewhere to sulk.

xXx

Allen clutched his arm to his chest. Why did Timcanpy have to bite the right one?

_But he had every right to, _Allen realized guiltily. _He was trying to make me feel better, and I just threw him._ _He helped me with the vines, too, didn't he?_ Allen hung his head. _He was just being a good friend to me, and I've been a terrible friend back._

Because Timcanpy was indeed his friend, even if he was owned by Cross. Unlike his worthless master, Timcanpy actually seemed to care about his well-being. He tried to help him and cheer him up, just like he had today. And Allen hadn't even shown him any gratitude in return.

His previous misery all but forgotten, Allen left the room to find the golden golem. After wandering through the rooms of the apartment, calling his name, he finally discovered Timcanpy moping in a cupboard.

"Tim!" he cried joyfully, reaching in to take him out. But Timcanpy only bit him – on the left hand, this time – and turned back away from him.

Allen's shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have thrown you like that. You were just hugging me, weren't you?" Timcanpy seemed to soften a little. "I just…lost my temper, because of Rosanne and Master and everything." The golem didn't move.

"I'm sorry, really. Thank you for helping me. Please come out, Timcanpy? I…please? I want to be able to talk to you again. Come on…you're my best friend, Tim!"

Slowly, Timcanpy turned around to face him; then he zoomed out of the cupboard and onto Allen's head, wrapping his tail around him again. Allen was nearly knocked over by the weight of the large golem, but he steadied himself and smiled widely. "Hey, since Master went to sleep early, want to come with me into town? I have a little bit of money saved – not really enough for a decent meal, but if I find the right people, I can get them to give me more than I pay for…how about it? I'll give you some food, too."

Timcanpy nodded vigorously, and the two companions headed out the door.

xXx

Later that night, as Allen lay in bed with a full stomach – ah, the wonders of the puppy-dog eyes – his thoughts turned to the watering can he had left by Rosanne. In retrospect, that really hadn't been a good idea. How was he supposed to get to it now?

Inspiration hit him like lightning. Timcanpy had forgiven him, when he had shown him love. Maybe Rosanne would respond similarly? True, it was the plant that had attacked him first, completely unprovoked, but still, there was a chance. After all, you don't generally want to hurt someone who loves you. Perhaps Rosanne just wanted someone to love her, rather than attack her.

He decided to try it tomorrow.

xXx

He crept into the room with a cup of water. It wasn't covered, so he was careful to cover it with his hand, not spilling a drop. He would've liked Timcanpy to be there for moral support, but alas, he was out with his master as usual.

Rosanne lay dormant in a bud, no vines in sight. But as Allen tiptoed forward, she awoke, baring her jagged teeth and punishing vines. He gulped. With this cup, he wasn't free to use his hands should his idea fail.

As he kept walking forward, Rosanne snapped her teeth and her vines rushed at him. He took a deep breath; it was now or never…

"I love you!" he shouted.

The vines froze in midair, and the flower stopped writhing. Slowly, cautiously, he walked past the tips of the vines, chanting, "I love you, I love you, I love you…"

He walked right up to the pot, and poured the water in slowly, taking care to spread it evenly around the roots. He stroked the flower's stem as he worked, murmuring, "Good, Rosanne, good. You're very pretty, aren't you? What a nice flower. And such strong vines! I love you, Rosanne, I love you."

The vines relaxed lazily. Allen smiled as he picked up the watering can. "You're really a sweet plant, aren't you, Rosanne?" he chuckled. The flower petals lay open, but they seemed to be in no hurry to devour anyone.

From behind the door, the general watched the boy finally take care of the flower properly for once – if that silly method could really be called proper. He smirked, amused. "Idiot apprentice." Timcanpy, perched on his hat, nodded.

* * *

Somehow, I feel like Cross demanded that he should have the last paragraph…

The pacing is too fast and it came out more angsty than I had pictured, but I'm pretty satisfied otherwise.

By the way, when Allen went out with Timcanpy he was glomped by several women and earned even more food than he usually did. Because we all know Timcanpy's a total chick magnet, especially when combined with guys like Cross and Allen. Also, I'm thinking that before he could gamble, he just used his cute looks augmented by the right expressions to get people to give him more than he paid for, if he paid at all. I can see this happening, easily…

Constructive criticism is appreciated. I hope you enjoyed this!


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